Come Around
by the.eye.does.not.SEE
Summary: She just wants to have a drink with her friend. (Follow-up to 'Here We Go' and 'The Way Back.')


**Title** : _Come Around_ (1/1)

 **Universe** : _Blindspot,_ post-1x09 [somewhat AU]

 **Rating** : PG-13

 **Pairing** : Jane Doe/Kurt Weller [references to my OCs Gwen Harding/James Harding]

 **Summary** : She just wants to have a drink with her friend.

 **Author's Note** : I wanted to get back to J & K for a bit (well, kind of). This story piggybacks a bit off of _Here We Go_ and _The Way Back_. Please enjoy. :) Especially you, kate-dammit-run! :)

x x x

They were just finishing putting away their formalwear in the costume locker when Kurt suggests they go out for a drink to decompress, maybe to a different bar than the one the team usually goes to. Jane accepts immediately, privately grateful that he's suggested a public place, and one away from the team at that. Despite the confidence the dress and the jewelry and the undercover persona had given her earlier in the evening, she's suddenly anxious, here alone with him. It was one thing when they were pretending to be other people, but now, here, back in the real world… There are too many questions flying through her head—what this is between them, and how in the world they can make it work, chief among them—to make even the idea of being alone with him fun or exciting anymore. Despite the danger they'd faced this afternoon, she suddenly wishes they could go back in time, inhabit their covers once more, and throw everything else to the wind. It was so much easier to be with him when there weren't any consequences attached and when every single moment was lived in the present, with no time to worry about the past or the future or what any of it actually meant.

Her security detail drives them to the bar he picks, and she's thankful for their company as well. Back in her own clothes now, with her tattoos visible and her makeup washed off, she doesn't feel as confident as she did earlier in the night. Part of her longs for that dress and those diamonds and that lipstick—she wants her armor back—but the other part of her, small but quietly growing, is happy to be herself again. She's still nervous as to what that means, and where she and Kurt will go from here, but at least whatever this turns into will be real, and not a play for an audience.

When her detail drops them off, they take a second to remind Jane that she can call them whenever she needs a ride back home. She assures them she will, and that she will also let them know if she leaves this bar for any other location. They drive off, then, to find a parking place and vantage points from which to watch over her, and as Jane watches them go, she wonders if they think anything of this, of her going out for a drink alone with Kurt. She and he hadn't done anything in the car, hadn't held hands or even sat side-by-side, but she wonders… Sometimes those agents of hers seem as perceptive as her psychiatrist.

"Ready?"

Jane jumps at the sound of Kurt's voice, so close to her, and murmurs a quick "Yes" as he tugs her from the curb and towards the bar's entrance. She says nothing about the feel of his hand clasped around hers, but privately enjoys his warm touch. She's glad not everything from today was shed as easily as his tux and her ball gown.

He wends his way easily through the bar's patrons, with her following along comfortably in his wake. When they get to the bar, he turns to her, wondering if she'd like the same as what she had this afternoon.

Thinking of the bourbon she had, Jane shakes her head. She doesn't need something that strong right now. "Beer's fine."

"Anything in particular?" 

"Whatever you're getting."

He nods, flashing her a quick smile, as he grabs the bartender and gives him their order. In just a few minutes, they have drinks in their hands and are settling in at a small booth in the back of the bar. It's dim in the back, and quiet, and Jane appreciates it. This bar isn't as loud or crowded as their usual after-work hangout, and she finds herself wondering if Kurt comes here often. She hadn't been paying attention on the drive over—she'd been too busy watching him, and her agents, out of the corner of her eye—so she isn't sure where they are. Are they close to his place, perhaps? The drive was less than fifteen minutes, so she knows they can't be near hers…

"How are you doing over there?"

"Oh, I'm fine," she covers quickly, putting up a quick smile to brush off his concern. She hadn't realized she'd been gone that long.

But his eyes are serious when hers meet them.

"Whatever you're thinking about—Jane, do you want to talk about it?"

Gently, Jane shakes her head. She knows another time will come, like what happened earlier this evening in the locker room, where they'll have to discuss what they are and where they're going and what the hell is happening between them. Where they'll have to think about the future and the consequences that will undoubtedly come with it. But for right now… God, right now she just wants to have a drink with her friend.

"I know we should, but can we just…" She blinks over to him, praying, hoping: "Can we just do the big talking part later, please?"

He smiles, nodding with a little laugh. "Sure. Whenever you're up for it. Right now…" He shrugs, offering, "Why don't we just have a drink, huh?"

She nods gratefully, taking a swig of hers, relieved that they're still on the same page for now. "Sounds good," she murmurs.

She watches him as he drinks then, as he leans back against the booth and relaxes, and she can't help but run comparisons. She studies him as he casts an eye around the bar, taking in the other patrons, and she wonders what he's thinking. If they were here at this bar on another undercover mission, and not just for themselves, would he still be acting like this? Does James ever allow himself to fully relax? More to the point, does Kurt?

Somehow, she thinks _no_ on both counts.

She glances down at the beer bottle in her hand, smiling a little as she thinks of their shed covers. Gwen would definitely _not_ be drinking what she's drinking. Or wearing what she's wearing.

But if they _were_ here, for whatever reason… If they _were_ real… _Well_ , she thinks, _why not ask?_

"So." She smiles a little as Kurt's eyes immediately fly back to hers when she speaks. "What do you think James and Gwen would be doing, if they were here?"

Kurt grins at the mention of their covers from earlier in the day, and laughs a little at her question. "Well, first off, they wouldn't _be_ here. At some bar in Midtown?" He rolls his eyes a little. "Come on."

Jane grins back, taking a swallow of her beer. She can't help but think of Gwen, and the face she would make if she were a real person, and here to watch. Jane rolls her eyes. "Oh, right, so they only go to the most exclusive of exclusive bars?"

Kurt pretends to think for a second. "Uh, yeah, sounds about right. And as for what they'd do once they got there…" He smiles a little, taking a pull of his own drink with a disbelieving shake of his head. "My guess is, they'd probably be locked in some back room somewhere, doing God knows what."

Jane knows he could very easily be referring to an arms deal, or some other sort of illegal activity that their covers are purported to be involved in. He could be referring to them killing someone together; they do that often enough. But for some reason, the first thing she imagined when he mentioned the two of them in a back room was sex. Wild, crazy, mind-bending sex. Body-bending sex. Sex like what comes at the end of the kiss he gave her this afternoon, against that car in front of all those people.

Jane clears her throat and takes a rough swallow of her drink to dispel her thoughts. The alcohol burns a little more than usual on the way down, getting caught in her suddenly tight throat, but she doesn't mind. Anything to take her mind off of where it's much too eagerly running to.

"Where did he come from, by the way?" she asks, to clear the air.

"What, James?"

Jane nods, watching Kurt intently now. She's been wanting to ask this question all day. She wants to know how much of him is really Kurt, and how much had to be made up. If anything. She really can't tell, even after today. He plays both roles exceptionally well.

Kurt shrugs. "He's just an arms dealer we made up a few years back. Needed the persona for a mission, and he fit the bill. Luckily I got out clean back then, so he's still on the boards as an alias I can use—which is why Mayfair was okay with us using him, and making up Gwen. You'd be surprised how little that happens," he adds. "Especially today, I'm glad we ran the way we did, because otherwise we would've been caught out as cops in front of all those dealers, and you know even if we locked them up, they'd have a way of getting word out to their guys. And then we'd be done."

"But we made it out clean."

"Yeah, we did." He catches her eye across the table with a bit of a sly smile. "And I've got you to thank for that."

Jane drops her eyes to the table, hoping against hope that her cheeks aren't turning red as she thinks they are. "It just… seemed like an easy excuse," she replies, trying not to remember the way she'd dragged him into that closet, on the pretense that newly married couples need privacy… Especially right before a federal agency is about to raid the compound they're visiting.

"It was a good idea. Very quick thinking," he commends her, sounding like a sports coach. But that look in his eyes… Is he teasing her?

"Is there, um, any particular reason you made him the way you did? Were you following some—I don't know—profile or something?"

"Not really," Kurt replies, that look leaving his eyes as he turns serious again, back to work. "I didn't base him off anyone in particular, if that's what you're asking. He's a mix of things. He's guys I've known. He's guys I hope never to know."

Jane can't exactly imagine Kurt knowing anyone remotely like James Harding, but then again, if someone had asked her this morning if she thought he could play the part and make it believable, she would've said no to that, too, so she supposes she's not the best judge.

"Most of him I got from guys I've met on the job—arrested," he adds, seeing the momentary surprise on her face that he would work side by side with such people. "And I intentionally made him a little crazier than any of them to cover any slips I might have." At the confusion on her face, he explains: "If I hesitate, or if I move too quick… Hey, that can just be James being James, screwing with people, not a fed thinking too fast or too slow."

Jane nods along, quietly realizing how much thought had to have gone into this. They'd spent forever on Gwen, of course, in the days leading up to the mission, but Jane had assumed that was more because she was a rookie at these sorts of things, and had to be trained. James had seemed to already be there inside Kurt, as if embodying the other personality took no effort at all. Did he actually sit down at some point, and sketch this all out? Did he have to?

"Do you like being him?" Jane blurts. "The way you act when you're him, is it…" There are so many words she could use to describe James, to describe the way he acts, the way it must feel to be him, but in the end, after she's sifted through all the horrible ones, all the disparaging ones, all that remains is _fun._ That's what it comes down to, she realizes now; that's what she had been seeing at that villa on the mountaintop: James (and maybe Kurt) was having _fun_.

Kurt frowns at her across the table when she says the word aloud.

And then he leans closer, carefully finding her eye with his as he says quietly, "Look, Jane, if this is about how I—"

"It's not about anything," Jane interrupts quickly, her mind flying ahead of his, thinking of the kiss, the kiss _es_ , the touching, the flamboyancy of the way he paraded her around. The blatant possessiveness of it, and the way she found herself thriving in it, taking her own confidence from his. "I'm just curious. You shifted so fast; you were like a different person when you were him. It was…" She searches for the words, for a proper explanation of how she felt when she saw him change as he stepped out of that car with her. That smirk she'd never seen before on his face, that look in his eyes, even the way he walked… "It was very impressive, honestly."

He hardly blinks at the praise, taking her words at face value. "Well, you have to be a good actor in this job a lot of the time, even when you're not undercover. When you're with suspects, when you're in the field… You've gotta act big or tough or stupid or in-control, depending on the situation. Everything's relative, and you have to be adaptable to what you're facing." He leans forward, tipping his bottle against hers. "You definitely proved you were that today, if we didn't already know. You did a great job, Jane."

She gives him a little smile, and takes a small swallow of her beer to that. "Thanks," she replies after she puts her bottle back down, "but I didn't really do much. I just stood by your side most of the time."

"No, you did plenty," he argues. "All those people were watching you every second we were there, gauging what you were about, and what they could get away with. From the moment you stepped out of that car, I can guarantee you they were taking bets on how long you'd last. But you were firm-in your presence, in your attitude, everything. You solidified our place there by carving out a spot for yourself amongst all the men, and trust me, that's _not_ an easy feat with these sorts of people. You should be proud of that, Jane. You showed them all who you were, what you were made of, and it paid off."

"I showed them what _Gwen_ was made of."

"Same thing, as far as they're all concerned. And me too," he adds, catching her eye with a look she can't quite decipher. "You could've fooled me."

Jane nods slowly, thinking on that. This isn't the first time he's caused her to stop and think about how much of _her_ cover was fake and how much of it was real. "Being Gwen, it was… freeing, for me. I didn't expect to feel that," she confesses quietly, her eyes falling to the table. "I thought I'd be on edge the whole time, trying to make it believable, trying to do all the right things at all the right moments. I thought I'd be so nervous that none of it would seem real to anyone…"

"Well, that's why we practiced," Kurt points out. "To make her feel natural to you."

Jane nods, remembering those awkward hours they'd spent together before the mission fully launched, locked alone in a room at the Bureau, trying to find a way to interact and talk and touch each other like they'd spent years cultivating an exceedingly intimate relationship and not just a few months slowly building a still-tenuous friendship.

If it even _is_ a friendship anymore.

Jane watches Kurt across the table as he toys with his beer, picking at a ripped spot in the label. She thinks of the way he kissed her in the helicopter on the way home, and the way she kissed him in the locker room, and the way he held her hand as they stepped into the bar, like it was all so natural…

 _That's because it is,_ she thinks now, unable to take her eyes off of him as her mind speeds through possibility after possibility, all tied together with causes and effects from their mission. She doesn't know quite when this started: if it began days ago, when they'd first locked themselves into that private interview room at the Bureau to create their fake marriage; if it began earlier this afternoon, when he kissed her for the first time, neither of them quite themselves, with him in his tux and her in her gown; or if it began just an hour ago, when she'd kissed him in the locker room, both of them back in their regular clothes, with their regular identities.

Sure, she might not know when it started, and she certainly has no idea when or how it will end, but she knows what she feels and, looking at him sitting across from her, she comes to terms with the fact that she doesn't want to lose this feeling. Who knows where this will go, or what the team will say when they find out, or what Mayfair will do when word reaches her ears… Who knows if it will really work between them.

But she'd like to at least give it a try. Jane feels like she was given a gift, this make-believe afternoon and evening with him, and she doesn't want to let it go so quickly. No, she wants to cherish it forever; she wants to make it as real as possible. But for right now…

"If you have to go undercover again, if you use him again… Will I be coming along?"

Kurt appraises her for a moment. He tries to gauge her face, tries to see if she's hoping for a "Yes" or a "No," but he can't see anything. It's been a long time since she's been so unreadable to him. Not sure where her head's at, he does his best to play it safe.

"Unless circumstances require my wife to be present for whatever reason, I'd say it's probably up to you. You can come if you feel so inclined, and I'm sure you'd also be able to stay behind if you don't want to be involved. I can make up an excuse for you, I'm sure."

Jane nods, looking down to hide her face as she contemplates his answer. She hopes he can't see the way she felt her face heat when he referred to her as his wife. It's silly, she knows. It was a cover, after all; it isn't as if they're even in a relationship, let alone a marriage. But still, after this afternoon, it's a little hard to separate herself from everything that happened. Sometimes, when she closes her eyes as she listens to his voice, she can still feel the way his lips felt against hers. She can feel the possessiveness in his grip as he wrapped an arm around her waist. She can feel James like a ghost beside her, and she wants him to be real, because sometimes he feels like her only way of truly accessing Kurt.

"Do you think you would, you know, like to come along next time?"

Kurt's voice, suddenly so low and hesitant, pulls her right out of her thoughts. She looks up to find him staring right at her, his eyes darting, concerned. She stares back at him for a moment, trying to sort through this front of concern—because she's seen him act now, and she's starting to figure out what's real. This _is_ a front, there's something behind it…

When she leans closer across by accident, she sees it—that flash of surprise, of anticipation, of _want_. Before she can even think, a grin spreads across her face.

"I think I would," she tells him honestly, enjoying the smile that makes its way across his face at her answer. "I, um, I liked being James's wife."

Kurt nods quickly at that, smiling briefly, before glancing out to the bar again. Jane bites her lip, knowing she's said the wrong thing now. She hadn't meant it like _that_ … Doesn't he know now that to her, she who can be Gwen, he and James are like two sides of the same coin? She isn't picking someone else over him; she's just picking another expression of him. Perhaps a truer one—or at the very least, a rawer one. Jane tilts her head to the side, trying to capture his eye, but he refuses to meet hers.

"And Kurt—" She waits to say the rest until he's turned back to her, and lifted his head to meet her eyes. "—I really liked kissing you."

He stares at her, speechless for a moment, before his face explodes in a grin— _his_ grin, the boyish one she's missed all afternoon. "Hey," he calls, reaching across the table to tip his beer against hers, his eyes alight with mirth and mischief and happiness, "I'll drink to that, Jane."

. . .

 **Author's Note:** Thanks for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts!


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